


Triumph or Die

by UnknownCrow



Category: RWBY
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2019-01-09 21:57:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12285171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnknownCrow/pseuds/UnknownCrow
Summary: Cinder Fall is a revolutionary flitting between safehouses and allies. Now, in a time of fractured stability, she must break through to reveal the tyranny at the heart of society.





	1. The Night Everything Changed

The rain was downright torrential, and that made Cinder unhappy. 

The sidewalk had almost become a river from the safehouse out to the park, and her boots had proved themselves inadequate. She’d bought a cheap plastic poncho from a local convenience store, but it honestly wasn’t enough. She was still drenched, and she’d probably need a fresh change of clothes. Whatever. Going out in the rain was trivial. What was important was this.

She stopped at a rusting blue mailbox. The black sigil on its side was rapidly fading in the rain, but the nearby wet cigar ash told her that her contact had been there, which meant the mailbox contained his dead drop — this one would be a report on the local Dust stores and their vulnerabilities. 

The envelope was at the top, and it had her code name scrawled in messy handwriting. 

She clutched it close to her chest as she walked back to the safehouse.

Cinder shut the door, secured both the lock and the deadbolt. She fumbled and shuffled off her poncho. She tossed the folder on the cluttered table before retreating to the bedroom and changing into an old t-shirt and loose pants. 

The safehouse was dingy and somewhat gross, but the landlady didn’t ask questions and the rent was low enough. There were no shoes at the door, which meant Emerald and Mercury were out right now. 

She put on a pot of water and tossed a pack of instant noodles, “chicken flavored,” in before grabbing the envelope and tearing it open.

It was indeed the reports she was looking for. 

The issue is that  _ most _ Dust stores kept good inventory and had very robust security. A few years ago, before the Schnee Dust Company had solidified their monopoly, that wouldn’t have mattered; these days, additional security was borderline mandated by the Schnees if anyone didn’t want to pay a wealth of additional fees. 

Which left her with the task of robbing people that the SDC was already robbing. It wasn’t particularly nice. 

The water came to a boil behind her. She quickly stepped over and stirred the noodles. 

The Dust was necessary. She needed it to give to the White Fang — Adam Taurus had rejected her initial offer of simple cooperation, which meant she would either have to placate him or drive him to submission. 

She methodically broke up the block of noodles.

Driving Adam Taurus to submission was unfeasible and nigh impossible. It’d take a miracle to get him to submit to even another Faunus, but his level of hatred for humans would mean she’d be fighting an uphill battle. But if she came bearing gifts, that changed things. One good take from a heist like this would be more than enough to get him to, at the least, hear her out. 

She dumped the now-soft noodles into a bowl and set another pile of papers aside to make room for her bowl before sitting down with her meal. 

Cinder grabbed the reports again and a small note card popped out.

>7pm, my place — Mr. Orange.

>Bring your friends.   
She grumbled before chowing down on her food, reaching for her Scroll to tell Em and Merc to hurry back.

* * *

Mister Orange was Roman Torchwick.

Roman Torchwick was a self-styled gentleman thief. From Cinder’s personal experience, the “gentleman” was a misnomer. He was rather flashy, too, which didn’t make her like him either. But her plans required an expert thief and Emerald had little skills beside lockpicking and pickpocketing. This sort of thing required someone who understood robbery on a deeper level.

His townhouse was barely on what was considered the upper side of town. 

“I don’t trust him,” Emerald said as they approached the door.

“I don’t either,” Cinder said, knocking sharply three times. 

Roman opened the door and let them in. She could see the single-shot pistol tucked into his sleeve, in addition to the cane in his other hand. 

“Right on time,” Roman said. “I assume you burned the papers?”

“Of course,” Cinder said. 

Roman folded his arms. “So what are you looking at?”

“From Dust Till Dawn has absurdly low security,” Cinder began. “They carry a variety of Dust types and have the largest stockpile a non-SDC store carries in all of Vale.”

“I’d thought you might go for that,” Roman said, lighting a cigar. “Newer Dust stores are built like banks. This one’s the last holdout from the old days. Easy money. Let’s talk planning.”

It took mere moments for Roman to unfurl a small map down on the dining table. “This is the area surrounding the store,” Roman said. 

Emerald cocked her head to the side to see it from another angle. “I assume the back is more heavily guarded.” 

“You’ve got it,” Roman grumbled. “If we’re going to do this, it’s gonna be loud.”

“Then you have another plan,” Cinder said. 

“We do it old fashioned.” Roman smirked, tipping his hat. “We go in with masks and unmarked guns, demand everything, haul it off.” 

Mercury frowned. “Escape route?”

“I know someone,” Roman said. “My own personal getaway artist.”

* * *

The parking garage was barren at this hour. The sun had long since sunk below the horizon and most stores were preparing to close.

“Hello, hello, hello,” Roman said.

“You said you would bring a driver,” Emerald said. 

“Indeed I did,” Roman said, in that decidedly obnoxious showboating manner. “This is her: Neopolitan, also known as Neo.”

Neo, a slip of a girl carrying an umbrella, waved a friendly hello.

“Can she see over the wheel?” Mercury asked, deadpan. 

Neo’s hand went up in a decidedly less friendly gesture.

“We’ve worked together for years,” Roman said. “Found her trying to nab the hubcaps off a car  _ I’d  _ already boosted. She drives, she fights, she’s handy for getaways.”

“She’ll do, Emerald.” Cinder tilted her head to see past Roman. “Good choice of car,” she said, gesturing to the sedan. 

Roman took out three bags from the trunk of the car. “These duffel bags are what we’ll be using to haul the goods. Your shotguns will be concealed in them, too. You’ll find some plastic bags in there, that’s what we’ll be loading the powdered Dust into. Use the side pockets for the crystals. Got it?”

“Got it,” the three said at once.

* * *

Rolling up across from the store was easy.

“Right,” Cinder said, hesitantly. “Everyone, masks and sunglasses on.”

They did so, and they exited the car, each swinging around to the trunk where the duffel bags were kept.

Cinder let out a series of shuddering breaths. This was necessary. It was the first step to bringing down the tyranny of Ozpin and Ironwood. This one heist would set everything in motion for her and her tiny band of rebels.

She grabbed the duffel bag. She walked toward the store. Emerald opened the door and Cinder walked through it. 

Roman threatened the old man at the register and he began to take the Dust crystals out from their case. Roman directed her to quickly load up bags with powdered Dust. 

She unzipped the bag and wrapped it around the nozzle of the dispenser. She pulled the lever and let it pour out. 

Cinder looked at the shopkeeper. He was old. She could barely see his eyes. He’d likely lived in Vale for years, and he’d probably worked here for nearly as long. 

She was growing increasingly nauseated from the smell of the powdered Dust. She zipped up the first bag and prepared a second.

This was a bad thing to do. She should have gone with an SDC-owned store. The Schnee were emblematic of the corruption and decay of Remnant. Right now she was stealing from an elderly man. It did not feel good, even when she said the revolution needed these supplies. 

This would be tainted money at best. The superstitious side of her called it cursed gold; gold that she could never enjoy. 

She swallowed down her nausea and zipped up the second bag.

* * *

Mercury Black, meanwhile, had found his way to the back of the store. From Dust Till Dawn also, in fact, carried some amount of weapon creation and maintenance tools. And he kinda wanted a new toolset.

He turned a corner and came face-to-back with a tiny girl in a red cloak, reading a magazine. 

“Oi,” he said gruffly, hefting his sawn-off shotgun at her. When that failed to break her concentration, he jabbed her with the barrel. “You got a death wish or something?”

The girl in red turned and looked down at the barrel. Then she looked up at Mercury, taking her headphones off.

Her simple question was: “Are you robbing me?”

Mercury nodded and said, “Yes.”

* * *

Cinder had to say, things went south  _ fast _ . She could tell because Mercury went flying through a plate glass window.

“Uh,” Roman said, finishing sliding the crystals into his bag.

Cinder sealed her third bag of Dust, tossed it into her duffel bag, and stood at the broken window. This much Dust would have to be enough, she considered.

She watched a gleaming scythe unfold by the light of the moon. The girl in red slammed the blade of her weapon into the ground; the asphalt cracked under it.

“Get to the car,” Roman said.

Cinder and Emerald ran for it.

The girl seemed to fly through the air, using her scythe to anchor her firmly in the ground. Cinder found the breath taken directly from her lungs as the girl’s boots slammed into her chest.

She was then laying face down, and she could see Roman subtly motioning for her to keep down. 

“Well, Red, it’s been a lovely evening,” Roman called out. 

Cinder slowly crawled toward the getaway car. Emerald and Mercury had already made it. 

Roman twirled his cane and rushed in toward the girl. She parried his telegraphed cane strike, took the brunt of his bare handed smack, and narrowly evaded his gunshot.

Cinder didn’t pause to gawk. She rose, ignoring the sharp pain in her lungs, and ran toward the car before diving into the backseat. Roman was right behind her, clambering into the passenger seat. Neo threw the car into reverse, swinging around and slamming it into drive. 

The back window exploded in a shower of glass, and a sudden jolt told them their car had lost one of its tires. A cacophony of sirens warned Cinder of incoming police. 

“You’ve got this?” 

Neo nodded twice before taking the car on a sharp turn into an alleyway. She slammed through a set of boxes and blew out into a busy street. 

“Three of them,” Roman said. “Directly behind.” 

Neo checked her rear-view before driving over the median and into oncoming traffic, swerving past a large van and taking a turn onto a bridge. She gunned it and soon enough they were among shoddy apartments and dark alleys.

“This is the bad side of town,” Mercury commented absently, poking his bruised chest.

“No shit,” Emerald replied. “You think the police will stop to beat up some Faunus kids?”

Mercury chuckled. It did not hide his fear.

“Punch it,” Roman said. 

Neo shrugged and attempted to oblige. She drifted around another corner and slipped into a parking spot. Outside, an illusory car sped by, drawing the police past them.

“Excellent,” Roman said, sighing. “Neo, take us home.”

* * *

They’d ditched the car, driven to Roman’s apartment, split up, and ended up at Cinder’s place. They’d worked to clear off the table of its junk quickly and dumped the contents of their duffel bags onto the table.

All told, the Dust was practically spilling onto the floor.

“Shit,” Roman said, looking at it. “I didn’t think we grabbed that much, not with Little Red there.”

Emerald was salivating behind him.

“Twenty-seven Large crystals, forty-nine medium, and seventy-two small,” Roman said, reading from the inventory. “A kilogram of powdered Fire Dust, three hundred grams Gravity, et cetera, et cetera, holy shit, this is a lot.”

“Good haul,” Mercury said, holding an ice pack to his head. 

“Cuts,” Roman said. “We’d agreed that Neo and I get forty percent of the total.”

“Right,” Cinder said. “Emerald, Mercury, and I will be taking seven percent each, and the remainder is being offered to the White Fang as compensation.”

“Risky,” Roman muttered with a smirk. “I’ve worked with animals before.  _ You  _ don’t know how feral they can get.”

“The White Fang has manpower and resources,” Cinder replied. “They’re vital to all of this.”

“Hey, I’m just being real,” Roman said. 

Cinder glanced to Neo; she frowned and shrugged.

* * *

The White Fang encampment, located a couple hours out of Vale, was tinged with a level of perpetual exhaustion and suffering.

Cinder understood the way they looked at her. Mercury and Emerald flanked her, but the trio attracted stares for being the only humans in the camp. 

The large tent where Adam managed camp was half war room, half meeting room. Adam Taurus’s eyes were hidden behind his mask, but Cinder could tell he was unhappy from the way he was unnaturally reclined. 

“Your presence is  _ tolerated,” _ he began, “but I’m afraid that your request will be  _ denied _ once again, human. And I’m not in the mood for negotiations.”

“We merely come with a gift,” Cinder said,  kneeling and placing a bag onto the low Mistralian-style table. “High quality Dust.”

Adam turned his head to look at the Dust, his hand stretching out to grasp it. He opened the bag and felt the Dust with his fingertips carefully before resealing it.

“This isn’t cheap,” he concluded, finally looking at Cinder. “You’re quite serious this time.”

“Undoubtedly,” Cinder said. 

“I have two stipulations, if you seek to use  _ my _ forces for a  _ human _ cause,” Adam said, rising to a kneel. “First, you are going to eliminate a traitor. His name is Tukson. From what I’ve gathered, he lives in Vale now.”

“It will be done,” Cinder said. “And?”

“As I said before, there are two stipulations,” Adam said. “A... _ lover _ of mine left me. You will track her down. Her name is Blake Belladonna, and she bears the ears of a feline.”


	2. No Such Things As Halfway Crooks

Tukson’s Book Trade’s address was 282 7th Street. It touted itself in advertisements as having “every book under the sun” and had a swath of stellar online reviews. The store had a handful of employees, including its owner, Tukson. 

It was late in the evening when a blue sedan pulled up across the street.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” Cinder said, looking at the driver.

Neo shrugged and climbed out, Cinder following behind. Neo paused at the store’s door and opened it for Cinder.

“Thanks,” Cinder said reflexively.

The bookstore was lit by cheap fluorescent lights that gave the place a yellowish glow. The shelves were packed and double-stacked with books, arranged in loose collections of genre. The only one at the counter was Tukson. It was late enough that he was reclined against the wall, sitting on a stool with a book in hand and a set of reading glasses perched on his nose. “Evening,” he said, glancing up. “Anything in particular?”

“Not really,” Cinder said. “Just browsing.”

Neo tapped the handle of her parasol and jerked her head to the left; she began moving to the right. Cinder moved toward the left. 

The place had no interior security cameras, Emerald had said. 

Cinder paused at a selection of romance novels, pretending to browse. Neo was on the other side of the counter, poking at some volumes of Mistralian comics. 

Adam had warned her about Tukson’s claws. They could be lethal to someone without Aura, and even with Aura they were dangerous.

Cinder glanced over again. Neo had picked out a couple volumes. She seemed to be getting really into the fake shopping. Cinder glanced at the trashy romance novel in her hand. The summary was a mess of words.

The knife was tucked into her jacket. It was simplicity itself to draw it. 

“That’s not a very good book,” Tukson remarked. He’d left the counter and his book behind and was standing just outside the romance section. “They completely miss the mark on  _ believable _ romance.”

“I’m not that into romance novels, anyway,” Cinder said, putting the novel back on the shelf and stepping toward the Faunus. “What are you reading?”

“Some old sci-fi novel about a bunch of soldiers fighting in a box canyon,” Tukson said with a laugh. “The entire conflict ends up being rather futile anyway.”

Neo was approaching from behind. A thin blade slowly extended from the tip of her parasol.

“Sounds like a bit of dark comedy,” Cinder said, attempting to smile.

“It is,” Tukson said, looking slightly down at her. “Still, an enjoyable read.”

With a single motion Cinder drew the knife and rammed it into his stomach. Before he could react, Neo had already jammed her own blade into his back. 

Cinder let go of the knife and Neo slid her blade back out. Tukson slumped over against the counter, his claws sliding out of his fingertips. He sputtered a bit and ceased moving.

Cinder took a deep breath to calm herself and then retrieved the knife, wiping it off on Tukson’s clothes. She gently closed Tukson’s eyes.

Using a white handkerchief, Neo wiped her own blade clean and slid it back into the parasol. She nudged Cinder and motioned toward the back door.

“Right,” Cinder said.

* * *

 

Cinder shut the door of her safehouse and locked it, sighing. 

“Message from Adam,” Mercury called before she’d even taken off her shoes. 

“Tukson’s dead,” Cinder replied, rounding the corner and stepping into the kitchen.

“It’s not that,” Emerald grumbled. “He wants you to do another Dust thing. Said you needed to get in touch with him.”

“Oh, great,” Cinder said. “Did you two dig up anything on Belladonna?”

Emerald looked at Mercury. Mercury looked back and cocked his head. “We found something,” Emerald finally said. “Girl by the name of Blake Belladonna enrolled at Beacon. Bad news is, she has ‘human’ listed on her ID. Good news is, she’s plainly wearing a bow in her ID photo.” Emerald pushed a folder toward Cinder.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Cinder grumbled, sitting down and filing through the dossier on Blake Belladonna. “No name change? Just putting a bow on herself and saying she’s human? How flimsy can her disguise be?”

“Apparently it’s worked well enough,” Mercury said.

“I have to question why I’m trying to overthrow a blatantly incompetent leader, then,” Cinder jabbed. 

“Anyway,” Emerald sighed. “She’s gonna be at Beacon tomorrow for the start of term. Whether you want to tell Adam or not is up to you.”

“Let’s hear out his request, I suppose,” Cinder said. “Canned chili for dinner?”

* * *

 

Adam Taurus had selected an old laundromat on the rough end of town for their meeting place. 

Cinder walked in hesitantly. She’d foregone any sense of decorum and chosen to wear a cheap hoodie and baggy pants she’d stolen from Mercury. 

The laundromat was empty save for Adam, who was dressed in a plain outfit with nearly opaque sunglasses He sat facing a machine with a heap of dark clothing in it.

“So,” Adam remarked as she sat down next to him. “How’s your night?”

“I know you don’t care,” Cinder growled.

“To be quite frank, I’m hurt,” Adam said. “I did hear about the  _ unfortunate _ closure of Tukson’s Book Trade. Excellent work. But I had another task that requires your little band.”

Cinder slumped a little. “And that is?”

Adam chuckled. “My intelligence team has learned that the Schnee Dust Company will be bringing in a large shipment from Atlas. In four weeks it’ll be arriving at the docks here in Vale. The manifesto lists several thousand lien worth of Dust and a top-secret weapon.”

“So you want my crew to steal it,” Cinder said.

“I’ll provide assistance,” Adam said. “But in order to trust you, I need to know that you are willing to put your lives on the line.” The washing machine in front of them stopped. Adam grabbed a basket and began unloading it and moved to one of the dryers.

“About Belladonna,” Cinder began. 

Adam turned and raised an eyebrow. “Please, continue.”

“We’ve found her,” Cinder reported. “She’s enrolled at Beacon Academy.”

“Under a false name, I assume,” Adam said, loading the dryer.

“Actually, no,” Cinder said sheepishly. “She just put on a bow to hide her ears. No fake names or anything.”

Adam stopped. “You’re joking,” he grumbled.

“I’m not.”

Adam sighed and shoved the rest of his laundry into the dryer and slammed the door shut. “I don’t know what to do with this information, to be frank. I didn’t  _ expect  _ you to find her for...weeks.” He took a fistful of coins from his pocket and slid them into the machine. “Just keep your ears open. I’ll figure out what to do with her.”

“Of course,” Cinder said, standing up.

* * *

 

It was late and the blinds were closed. Roman’s apartment had been co-opted as a heist planning center once again. 

Cinder stood at a map of the docks, facing her crew. “Adam Taurus and the White Fang have asked us to take this job,” she began. “Four weeks from tomorrow, a large Schnee Dust Company shipment arrives at the docks, most likely in the evening. That night we’re going to swoop in and steal it.”

Emerald cleared her throat. “How large  _ is _ this shipment?”

“Several containers worth,” Cinder said. “Four of them are their standard Dust shipment, but the others have unknown cargo.”

“And how do you propose we move these?” 

“Simple,” Cinder said. “The White Fang is loaning us a trio of Bullheads with accompanying crews. They’ll take off from their camp and pick the cargo up. All we have to do is make sure security is unable to take them down. And then we hitch a ride out with them.”

“Nice,” Mercury said. 

“Simple enough,” Roman said, snuffing out his cigar. “Not spectacular. Tell me again why you’re working with these guys?”

“We need manpower,” Cinder said, plainly. 

“I still don’t get your plan,” Mercury said. 

“Okay,” Cinder said, sighing. “So we’re going to use the spectacle of the Vytal Tournament a few months from now to shine a spotlight on the corruption that’s growing rampant in Atlas and Vale and then we’re going to use the chaos of a  _ convenient _ breach of the city’s defenses to begin a complete coup.”

Mercury frowned and folded his arms. “And we’ll be setting up the breach?”

“Indeed,” Cinder proclaimed. “I’ve been studying the intricacies of the walls and I’ve identified a couple points we can strike. But we’ll need a lot of Dust to even dent the thing, which is why jobs like this help.”

“And shining a spotlight on corruption?”

“Let me get back to you on that one,” Cinder grumbled. “Listen, right now? We need Dust.”

* * *

Four weeks passed in a blur.

Intel out of the SDC hadn’t let slip anything beyond the simple fact that the cargo had shipped. The White Fang had signalled their preparations were complete. 

It was go time.

Neo was driving again. Cinder didn’t want to know what poor sap’s van they were riding in.

Roman chuckled, lighting a cigar. “Feeling nervous?”

“This is only the largest Dust heist ever committed,” Cinder said, chuckling nervously. “And our getaway is a terrorist group I barely trust.”

“They’re a bunch of animals,” Roman said, waving his cigar in the air. “In case things go south, I’m having Neo stay in the van. That goes for you kids, too.”

“Whatever,” Emerald grumbled.

“Well,” Roman said, leaning forward. “We just have to take out security. And we don’t even have to be quiet about it, all things considered. Hell, if you’ve got a White Fang flag, just toss it in there.”

The car rolled to a stop. 

“Go time,” Cinder said, pulling up her facemask and loading her submachine gun. The rest followed suit and climbed out of the van’s back.

The walk to the security station was decidedly easy. 

Emerald threw open the door and Mercury let loose with the SMG from the entryway. “Clear,” he said, stepping over to the gate switch and flipping it. “Gate’s open.”

Cinder turned. “Let’s move!”

* * *

 

“Autumn here. You’re clear.”

“Roger that, Autumn. Coming in now,” a crackly voice said through the tiny speaker. 

Cinder flicked off the cheap walkie-talkie. She deftly removed its batteries and tossed it into the harbor. “Alright,” she said. “Mark the Schnee containers with the red spray paint in your bags.”

Mercury slung his submachine gun aside and chuckled. “Roger that.”

One by one, they marked each of the containers. Just as Cinder finished the last of the set, the distinct sound of aircraft began to echo all around the docks. Three Bullheads descended from the sky and touched down. A contingent of White Fang members stepped out, masked and uniformed. 

“Get the marked containers ready for transport,” Roman yelled. “And snap to it!”

Cinder gave him a sharp glare but didn’t say anything. 

The White Fang members hustled to prepare the containers. 

“This one’s ready!”

“Ready!”

“All set!”

That was the moment that a girl leapt from the shadows and held Roman Torchiwck hostage.

“Nobody move!”

Cinder turned, repressing a sigh. 

The girl was dressed in white and black, with long, dark hair and a pair of yellow eyes. As Cinder watched, she grabbed the bow resting atop her head and pulled it to reveal a pair of distinctly feline ears.

“Blake Belladonna,” Cinder said under her breath.

A handful of White Fang took positioning around the hostage and his captor.

“Brothers of the White Fang, why are you aiding this scum?”

The White Fang hesitated at the question, but Roman verbally fired back: “Well, we’re going in on a joint business venture.” 

And then he used his cane to literally fire back, directly at the girl’s feet.

“Fire,” Cinder yelled. Mercury and Emerald began shooting, and soon the White Fang had joined in. 

The girl got dinged enough to spark up visible Aura. Cinder cursed and turned to check on Roman. He was engaged with a completely different fighter. Cinder cursed again. 

“Get to the Bullheads,” Cinder yelled to the White Fang. “We’ll hold them off!” 

Blake seemed to quickly catch onto Cinder barking out orders and rushed in with her sword. Cinder blocked her opening overhead swing with her gun and narrowly deflected her second before leaping back out of range. 

Cinder tossed aside her gun and drew a pair of shortswords. 

Blake moved in slowly, right foot leading the way. Cinder slowly crept into range.

Blake made the first move, a slash from left to right. Cinder deflected and moved into a slightly closer range, her swords coming in quickly. 

They bounced harmlessly off the sheath Blake had brought up in defense. Cinder moved back out of range.

Cinder reevaluated Blake’s weaponry — what she had assumed was a sword’s sheath was also a piece of the weapon itself. 

The Bullheads above had begun to pick up the containers. That was good. Also, it was bad. She’d need to use Neo as her escape route, and she was parked just outside the central building. 

“Hey!”

Cinder turned, and Blake did too. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Cinder grumbled.  _ “Again?” _

Blake gasped. “Ruby?”

The girl in red stood on the central building, twirling her scythe before slamming it into the ground. 

Roman responded in his trademark condescending manner: “Isn’t it past your bedtime, Red?” He smacked the now-distracted monkey faunus he’d been fighting across the head and aimed at the girl before firing.

A different girl stepped forward, several swords shooting out of her body. Then she leapt off the building.    


Cinder ran for it, turning toward a set of emptied containers. She weaved through the grid and emerged right as Neo’s van pulled up.

The side door slid open. “Get in,” Roman said. Cinder clambered in and the van sped away.

* * *

Roman said Junior’s bar was open late tonight.

Emerald ducked out, hoping to get some sleep, so they dropped her off at the train station. 

“Bartender,” Roman called out, stepping up to the bar. “My usual, and two more for my friends, and Neo’s usual.”

“Rough night?” Junior asked. 

“Shit yes,” Roman grumbled. “I was hoping for a bit of privacy. Is the VIP lounge open?”

Junior grabbed a trio of old-fashioned glasses and dropped ice into each. “It’s at capacity tonight, I’m afraid.” He poured equal amounts of whiskey and amaretto for each cocktail and passed them to the group, before pulling out an ice cream sandwich for Neo.

“Cockbites,” Roman spat, grabbing the offered drink. “The kids these days just get...fucking weird, y’know?” 

“I know,” Junior said. “You know this place got wrecked by some upstart a month back, right?”

The door opened and shut. A woman stepped up to the bar and took a seat.

“Hello, Blondie,” Junior sighed. “Here to wreck my place again?”

“Not exactly,” Blondie said. “I’m actually looking for my sister. About as short as that girl with the...wait, you sell ice cream? What?”

“Surprise,” Junior said flatly. “Anyway. Your sister.”

“Yeah. Shortish, dressed in black and red, black and red hair, carries a giant gun,” Blondie continued. “It turns into a big ol’ scythe.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Cinder said under her breath.

“I think I saw her, actually,” Mercury said. “Around the docks, I’d say?” Neo nodded to confirm.

“Thanks, you guys,” the woman said. “See ya, Junior.” She stood and walked out quickly.

“So that was the gal who wrecked your bar,” Roman chuckled. “You’re going to tell me this story in detail right now.”


	3. Temperature's Rising, And Ain't Nothing Surprising

Cinder was in the middle of eating a cobbled-together sandwich in her kitchen when her Scroll rang. She begrudgingly picked it up.

“It’s me,” Adam said through the line. “We need to talk.”

“Did the package arrive safely?” Cinder asked, before taking a quick bite and swallowing it.

“Of course,” Adam replied. “We’ve yet to open them, however. Blake Belladonna’s attempt to stop you and Roman at the docks means she has set herself against the Fang. She has knowledge of this camp’s location.”

“So you’re moving,” Cinder said. 

Adam scoffed. “Of course. My contact will leave our new location at your dead drop tonight.”

“Uh huh,” she said through a mouthful of bread.

Adam paused and then added, “One more thing. I’d like you to keep a closer eye on Blake.”  

“Right,” Cinder said with a sigh. But Adam had already hung up.

* * *

It was later that night.

“Why do we have to be at your trashy place,” Roman grumbled.

“The apartment is not that bad,” Emerald defended.

Mercury shrugged. “Kinda is.”

“Everyone,” Cinder growled. “We’re not here to debate how shitty this shithole is. We need to figure out some other things, got it?”

“I mean, okay,” Roman said, in a tone that implied it was not okay.

“Alright,” Cinder grumbled. “So. Figured out what we need to do. We’re going to have to infiltrate Beacon.”

“You’re joking,” Roman said. “Do I look like a student? At all?”

“Not you,” Cinder said. “Neo, Emerald, Mercury, myself. That’s a standard four student team like you would have at any academy.”

Emerald leaned back in her chair. “So how do we arrange this?”

“We need transcripts,” Cinder began. “Uniforms and the like. I’m thinking our cover story is that we’re transfer students here for the Vytal Tournament.”

“I know a guy who can get you transcripts,” Roman offered. 

“Wonderful,” Cinder said flatly. “So anyway. We’re doing this for two reasons. The first is so that we can keep an eye on Blake Belladonna, because Adam wants to ensure she won’t interfere with his stuff. The second reason is because we need to get closer to the CCT Tower on campus.”

Neo raised her hand.

Cinder pointed at her. “Yes?”

Neo shrugged and loosely pantomimed a short series of events.

Cinder nodded. “Well, we can’t just use a relay in town. That’s because we’re going to hack the Cross-Continental Transmit System.”

Roman raised his hand.

“Let me guess. You know a guy,” Cinder said.

“I know a guy,” Roman replied, shrugging and smirking.

* * *

“This is the place,” Roman said, beckoning Cinder and company toward a red-brick building.

The inside was a throwback to a heyday that had passed twenty years ago. The sounds of loose change and bleating machines created a cacophony. 

“An arcade?  _ Sweet,” _ Mercury said. 

“The guy’s name is Flynn,” Roman said, raising his voice above the din. “He’s a hacker.”

The back room was a normal office in most regards, save for the monolithic posters hanging on the wall advertising games that had come and gone. 

Flynn was a man perhaps a few years older than Roman, with unkempt brown hair and a dusting of stubble. A pair of thin, stylish glasses sat on his nose.

“I didn’t take you for the sort who taught apprentices,” Flynn said as the group piled into the office.

“These are, ostensibly, my  _ associates,” _ Roman said. “They’re paying  _ me _ because none of them are as good as I am.”

“So, what’ll it be today, Roman?”

Roman smirked, taking a seat and offering the other to Cinder. “Two things. First, these three need fake transcripts, and one more for Neo.”

“Beacon students? Did one of those ‘round the start of the term,” Flynn said, leaning forward toward his computer. 

“Haven, actually,” Cinder said. “We’ll be posing as competitors in the Vytal tournament.”

“Easy,” Flynn said. “That’s around a hundred lien all told, discount rate for a larger order.” He leaned back and clasped his hands over his stomach. “You said there was another.”

Roman smirked. “Cinder?”

Cinder took a deep breath. “We need a virus that can hijack the CCT.”

Flynn raised an eyebrow. “That’s a tall order. And it’s going to cost you. But given the  _ rash _ of  _ brazen _ Dust heists recently...well.”

“We’re good on that front,” Roman said.

“Right on,” Flynn said, standing up. “Let’s talk, then.”

Even deeper into the arcade was a space that seemed to overflow with computers and computer accessories. Piles of loose hard-drives and masses of cables littered the tables. 

Emerald looked around in vague disgust. “What is this place?”

“It’s a hackerspace,” Flynn said. He shoved aside a pile of junk at the central console and booted it up. “Bunch of peers wanted a space to work together, so I used this shitty old room. Sometimes we have Alley Combatant tournaments here.”

“So,” Cinder said. “How hard is it to hijack the CCT?”

“The CCT is Atlas’s baby, but it’s still a computer system,” Flynn said, sitting down. “Now, if you’d asked for me to just take it down, that’d be easy. I’ve got a worm cluster that’d be perfect. But you said ‘hijack’ — and that takes something more.”

Cinder inhaled sharply. “What are we looking at?”

Flynn spun in his chair. “Well, the worm would just dismantle the entire thing systematically, if that makes any sense. Just plain destruction. What you want is to take the brain of the system and reroute it — tricky, but possible.” 

Roman smirked. “For someone of your skills?”

Flynn shrugged. “Easy.”

* * *

Cinder drove them home. The car was actually Roman’s, and he’d apparently  _ bought _ it with well-laundered money. The exterior was well-maintained but Cinder couldn’t quite get over the trash littered inside.

“Listen up,” she said, glancing in the rear-view mirror. “Once we’re up at Beacon, you will be under constant scrutiny. If either of you should be discovered, we won’t hesitate to throw you under the bus. You will be an agent acting alone.” At their murmurs of understanding, she sighed and swallowed. “This goes for me, too. If I should fail, I expect you both to step over me.”

“So serious,” Roman chided. 

“We’re revolutionaries,” Cinder grumbled. “We’re united by a common vision and our  _ happiness _ doesn’t factor into that.”

“To be fair, we don’t have to pay tuition,” Mercury said. “I’m happy about that.”

Cinder sighed. “Well, okay.”

“You’re only kids once, you know,” Roman said. “Take a bit of time up at Beacon and enjoy yourselves!”

Cinder made a sharp left turn. “This isn’t a holiday. We’re still gonna be working.”

“You know, you work too much,” Roman said. “Gotta relax sometimes.”

Emerald laughed. “What do you suggest, smoking cigars?”

Roman turned to glare at her. 

“Anyway. Don’t screw this up,” Cinder concluded as she pulled onto her street. 

“I’ll keep in contact with Flynn and let you know when he’s done with those transcripts,” Roman said. “Any deadline I need to pass on to him?”

“The start of next term is in about a month,” Emerald said. “That’s when most of the transfers arrive.”

“Then his deadline,” Cinder began. She parked on the street and turned the car off. “Three weeks, please.”

“Right,” Roman said. “He’ll probably have it done tomorrow, knowing him.”

“And clean your damn car,” Cinder finished, stepping out and shutting the door. 

* * *

Preparations for the move to Beacon were manifold.

Haven uniforms were easy enough to find; Cinder quickly found a site selling likely illegally obtained uniforms for a purpose she’d rather not think about at the moment. 

Flynn delivered their transcripts within the week. They’d been middling; none of them appeared exceptional at anything but they were at least decent at everything, and their falsified grades qualified them for a spot in the tournament. 

A week before the new semester began, the White Fang called. 

* * *

Mountain Glenn was a wreck that few ventured into; Cinder understood why the White Fang had chosen it as a temporary base. Its location was more remote than their camp had been, and the Grimm (or at least the threat of them) would ward off anyone poking around.

Still, Cinder’s stomach was turning over and over  as the Bullhead descended. 

“A bit less open than your last camp,” Roman said. “Actually, where in the devil is your camp here?”

“We’re well fortified,” the pilot said. “We’re using the old subway system, and we keep a rotating guard.” The Bullhead descended and settled down. Roman and Cinder disembarked with the pilot soon following, and a set of guards prepared to disguise the VTOL with a camouflaged cover.

Their pilot lead them toward a nearby metro entrance. “As any respectable history professor will rattle off,” he began, “the subway tunnels of Mountain Glenn used the natural caverns to expedite construction, and ultimately these caverns served as tomb to the residents of the city.”

“How grisly,” Cinder said. 

“Indeed.” The pilot continued toward an empty freight car. “But a lot of the backup power systems were undamaged, so we have light so long as we keep the generators fed with Dust.” He slid the massive side door open.

“Morning,” Adam Taurus said. He was sat cross legged on the floor of the traincar, his sword across his lap.

“It’s afternoon,” Roman replied.

“So,” Cinder said. “You said there was something else in those containers?”

“Yes. And quite interesting cargo, I think,” Adam said, rising. “I don’t think what we intercepted was a Schnee Dust shipment at all, aside from the lone container of Dust.”

“Then what was in those containers?”

Adam gestured toward a darkened tunnel. Cinder could make out faint shapes, like giant monsters in the dark.

“Roy, show them,” Adam barked out. A nearby lieutenant threw a set of switches.

One by one, lights in the tunnel flicked on to reveal a half dozen bulky and unpainted machines, tall enough that they nearly scraped the ceiling. 

“We know what these are from our brothers in Atlas,” Adam said. “Atlesian Paladins. Six prototypes. Apparently they’re beginning mass production in the next month.”

“Paladins,” Cinder repeated, breath catching in her throat. “Why would Atlas military tech be in Vale?”

“Preparations,” Adam posited. “For war.”

“There’s no way they know about us,” Cinder said. “Even combined our forces aren’t large enough to warrant Atlas military action.”

Adam took a deep breath. “We thought the same thing. We don’t understand why they’re here, either.” He turned. “That aside, we have your payment.”

They walked through the traincar maze of a camp before reaching what Cinder recognized was the quartermaster’s tent. 

“Good morning, sir,” the quartermaster said, saluting. 

“Their payment,” Adam muttered. The quartermaster disappeared behind a handful of crates.

Cinder leaned against a table and bumped against something. She turned to look at the offending item — it appeared to be a machine, but on closer inspection it was a piece of one, with a set of hoses running from one end to the other. 

“Ah,” Adam said, looking at the part as well. “That was also in the containers.”

Cinder frowned. “What is it?”

“We don’t know.” Adam’s grimace grew deeper. “It’s some sort of medical device, but it’s likely useless without whatever it attaches to.”

Cinder lifted it and examined it from more angles. “Do you mind if I have this examined?”

“I don’t care,” Adam said. 

“Your payment,” the quartermaster said, emerging from the neat stacks of crates with a briefcase, opening it to reveal stacks of lien.

“That’s all. I’ll have someone show you back to the Bullhead,” Adam said.

* * *

The airship was posh and cushy. Cinder sat with her supposed team, all dressed in uniform. All around them, Haven students chattered and talked.

“This is it,” Emerald said. 

“Beacon Academy,” Cinder continued. 

Beacon was as impressive up close as it was from a distance. “That’s the CCT,” Cinder said, pointing out the window at the central tower. “Also the Headmaster’s office, if I remember correctly.”

Neo gave a thumbs up. 

“Okay,” Cinder said. “Emerald, I need you to go to Admissions and make sure our paperwork cleared. Mercury, you and Neo take a tour of campus — I want to know the major footpaths, and try to find some places we can talk without cameras.”

“And yourself?”

“I’m going to puzzle out where our rooms are,” Cinder said.

“You can handle that alone?”

Cinder smiled. “Of course.”

* * *

“I hate these labyrinthine dorms,” Cinder grumbled, looking at the hastily annotated map. Roman’s indecipherable handwriting taunted her, a set of impossible runes scrawled in red on the cheap printer paper.

Cinder sighed and rounded a corner straight into a girl.

They both stumbled backwards. The girl nearly fell and Cinder narrowly caught her forearm.

“Ah! I’m sorry!”

Cinder froze. 

The girl was dressed in a very familiar set of red and black clothes.

“It’s fine,” Cinder stuttered out. “Just watch where you’re going.”

The girl looked up and down at Cinder. “Oh! You must be a transfer student!”

“Yeah,” Cinder laughed. “Exactly. I’m from Haven.”

“Mistral is so cool,” the girl said. “Oh! Where are my manners? I’m Ruby Rose, it’s nice to meet you!”

“I’m Cinder Fall.”

Ruby glanced at the map in Cinder’s hand. “Lost, huh? I can show you the way.”

“I wouldn’t want to trouble you,” Cinder said. 

“No, it’s on the way,” Ruby said. “Just heading to the library to grab...a book.”

The walk to the transfer student dorms was rather short, but Cinder found her energy being drained at an advanced rate. She found Ruby Rose was as talkative as she was quick with a scythe. 

“Slow down,” Cinder said, after Ruby had just quickly given her a crash course on her team, emphasis on crash. “Tell me about your team one more time?”

“Okay,” Ruby said. “I’m the fearless leader! Weiss is our, uh, smart one! Yang is the punchy one, and Blake is the mysterious one!”

Cinder quirked an eyebrow at the mention of Blake. “So, Weiss? As in Weiss Schnee?”

“The one and only,” Ruby said, chipper. “She’s kinda grumpy but she’s actually, like, su~per nice!”

“That’s really...cool,” Cinder said.

“What about your team?”

“Well, I’m also leader,” Cinder said. “Two of my teammates bicker a lot, and I reign them in.”

“Oh, cool,” Ruby said. “Well, here’s the transfer dorms!”

“Thank you,” Cinder said, bowing slightly. 

As Ruby rocketed off toward the library, Cinder let out a sigh. “Of all the people in the world,  _ she _ had to run into  _ me?” _


End file.
